- Chapman University Digital Commons
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- Chapman University Digital Commons
Chapman University Chapman University Digital Commons Printed Performance Programs (PDF Format) Music Performances 4-23-1995 Senior Recital Stacey Tappan Chapman University Tania Fleischer Chapman University Christy Steimer Chapman University Judith Johnson Chapman University Gina Vanides Chapman University Follow this and additional works at: http://digitalcommons.chapman.edu/music_programs Recommended Citation Tappan, Stacey; Fleischer, Tania; Steimer, Christy; Johnson, Judith; and Vanides, Gina, "Senior Recital" (1995). Printed Performance Programs (PDF Format). Paper 60. http://digitalcommons.chapman.edu/music_programs/60 This Senior Recital is brought to you for free and open access by the Music Performances at Chapman University Digital Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Printed Performance Programs (PDF Format) by an authorized administrator of Chapman University Digital Commons. For more information, please contact [email protected]. CHAPMAN UNIVERSITY School of Music presents a Senior Recital Stacey Tappan, Soprano Tania Fleischer, Accompanist assisted by Christy Steimer, Violin . Judith Johnson, Cello Gina Vanides, Clarinet Sunday,April23, 1995 8:00 P.M. • Salmon Recital Hall Program I George Friedrich Handel SuBer Blumen Ambraflokken (1685-1759) Meine Seele hort im Sehen from Neun Deutsche Arien Tania Fleischer, harpsichord Christy Steimer, violin Judith Johnson, cello II Erist's (Eduard Morike) Die ihr schwebet (Lope de Vega) Mein Liebster ist so klein (Anon.) Das verlassene Magdelein (Morike) Erstes Liebeslied eines Madchens (Morike) III "Una voce poco fa" from JI Barbiere di Siviglia Hugo Wolf (1860-1903) Gioacchino Rossini (1792-1868) Intermission Exsultate, Jubilate, K. 165 Ludions Air du Rat Spleen La Grenouille amercaine Air du Poete Chanson du Chat IV Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791) v VI Three Songs for Soprano and Clarinet Of all the birds that I do know Flow, my tears Ho, who comes here? Gina Vanides, clarinet Erik Satie (1866-1925) Gordon Jacobs (1895-1984) Stacey 'Tappan Songs of Love ancf ::A[ature 'U!ftfi 'Tania JTeiscfier, piano and fiarpsicfiord Cfiristy Steimer, viofin Judy Johnson1 ceffo yina o/anides_, darinet Senior '.J\!,cita[ Ylpri[ 23, 1995 arias . by George coll ect10n of nine 1 and 1727 for Basso continua in this instrument, a Since the harpsichord cannot sustain pitches, cello does. Above foundation, the soprano and violin have two contrasting lines, each complementing the The poems in two songs share a common theme: appreciation for through Gioacchino Rossini ( 1868) composed one of the operas ever: Il Barbiere di Siviglia, or ~:..;:;;;....::=-=:..=;.,;;;_ ..:.:..::;_~~:...::.:.. This delightful comic opera, first performed the love between Rosina and C attempts to overcome the kept under close no fool. This the opera, introduces her to the audience as a sweet, loving, obedient girl on the surface, who underneath is strongwilled, clever, and determined not to give up until she achieves her heart's desire. The music, too, is at times sweet and flirtatious, bold and confident, or sly and clever. Usually an aria for mezzo-soprano, it is transposed up a half-step from its original key when done by sopranos, to better fit in the soprano voice. The frequent coloratura runs with which Rosina expresses her determination, however, are equally challenging for soprano and mezzo alike. The motet Exsultate, Jubilate was written in 1773 by that greatest of child (and adult) prodigies, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart ( 17 56-1 791) when he was seventeen years old. He wrote it in Milan for a Roman male soprano (the castrato Venanzio Rauzzini) but it remains popular with female sopranos today, and with good reason. The music, and especially the vocal line, contain Mozart's characteristic simplicity and beauty, while at the same time overflowing with joy and praise. Now we progress from the sublime to the ridiculous; Ludions by Erik Satie (1866-1925). This song cycle was written in 1923 and was the last set of songs Satie ever wrote. The songs are characteristic of Satie's style in several ways: they are very short, they have odd harmonic colorings, and the text setting points out Satie's sense of humor as well as his sensitivity to the poet's intentions. Air du Rat is a nonsense poem, which makes translation difficult. Satie's odd chords and intervals and bizarre accents complement the weird nature of the words in this poem. The next song, Spleen, is more serious in its despair and questioning of life. La Grenouille americaine talks, in an American accent, about a frog with yellow eyes. This frog is represented by a little "hopping" idea in the piano that also sounds like an American march. The entire purpose of the next song, Air du Poete, is a play on words: Papuan~ "Papouete". (peanut). Tc makes a monotonous point out the pun, as as playfully stressing the line, which is usually very subtle in French. The song, Chanson du Chat, is a vigorous folk song. Many of the words are in baby talk, as if one were talking to a spoiled cat. The piece on a set songs by Gordon Jacobs (1895-1984), for clarinet and soprano. The texts are taken from "English Madrigal Verse". The first is an anonymous the second is by John the third is by Thomas Morely. Of all the birds that I do know is a good example Elizabethan metaphor: comparing a woman to a sparrow, a slightly bawdy manner. The clarinet plays part of bird with light runs. In the second song, Flow, my tears, voice and clarinet interchange parts and build off of a beautifully expressive line. Finally, Ho, who one another ~==--:;==--;....;;;....;.. refers to the ancient English tradition of the Morris. This ritual is usually held on May Day and celebrates rebirth and springtime. These traditions involve Morris dancing, which is performed exclusively by men. They often wear white clothes or have white kerchiefs in each hand, and they wear bells on their legs that jingle in time with their steps. Bagpipes and drums provide the accompaniment, and the piping can be heard in the clarinet part. The hobby horse is another common figure of this ritual, and is also associated with the celebration of the fertility of spring. I would like to thank my fellow classmates for their encouragement, as well as of my teachers, who have not only helped me bring recital together, but have given me over my four years here a solid foundation as a musician and artist. Thanks especially to .... M,,.A~"""k me my Palanca- Hansen who has made me see art song in a new light; the divine Tania Fleischer, whose coaching, counsel, and musicianship have inspired me, and especially to my teacher and friend, Lynn "Best Teacher In the World" ColeAdcock, who has increased my confidence in myself and my abilities, and who has made my love and enthusiasm for music grow. "Learning music by reading about it is like making love through the mail." - Pavarotti. Special thanks to the best family a girl could ever have: my loving grandparents, Dave and Jeanne Tappan and Bob Vogel; my sister Christina and brother Dan, who make life infinitely richer; and to my wonderful parents, whose unquestioning emotional support and faith in me have kept me going when I needed it most. Thanks also to Kathy Wagner for the creation of a spectacular dress, to Gina Vanides, Judy Johnson, and Christy Steimer for their help and talent, and especially, to those of you who came tonight. Thank you all for being a part of my recital! Neun Deutsche Arien. 3 Su.Ber Blumen Ambraflokken, Euer Silber soll mich lokken Dem zum Ruhm, der euch gemacht. Pa ihr fallt, will ich mich schwingen Himmelwarts, und den besingen Der die Welt hervorgebracht. Sweet blossoms of the gum tree, Your silver entices me To the glory which created you. There you fall, I want to swing Heavenwards, and celebrate in song What the world has brought forth. Neun Deutsche Arjen. 6 Meine Seele bort im Sehen, Wie, den Schopfer zu erhohen Alles jauchzet, alles lacht. Horet nur, Des erbluhnden Fri.ilings Pracht Ist die Sprache der Natur Die sie deutlich durchs Gesicht Allent halben mit uns spricht. My soul hears in realization, How, in order to extol, Everything rejoices, everything laughs. Just listen, The blooming splendor of spring Is the voice of nature Which, clearly through this guise, Everywhere, speaks to us. Er Ist's Fruhling }asst sein blaues Band Wieder flattern durch die Li.ifte, Su.Be, wohlbekannte Dtifte Streifen ahnungsvoll das Land. Veilcben traumen schon, Wollen balde kommen. Horeb, von fern ein leiser Harfenton! Fruhling, ja du bist's! Pich hab ich vernommen, ja du bist's! It is Spring Spring lets her blue ribbon Again flutter through the breeze, Sweet, well-remembered scents Pervade, full of promise, the land. Violets are dreaming already, They will soon appear Hear, from far off, the soft note of a harp! Spring, yes it is you! I have sensed you; yes it is you! Die Ihr Scbwebet Die ihr schwebet um diese Palmen Im Nacht und Wind, Ihr heil'gen Engel, stillet die Wipfel! Es schlummert mein Kind. Ihr Palmen von Bethlehem in Windesbrausen, Wie mogt ihr heute so zornig sausen! 0 rauscht nicht also! Schweiget, neiget euch leis und lind, You Who Hover You who hover over these palms In night and the wind, You holy angels, calm the treetops! My child is sleeping. You Bethlehem Palms in the roaring of the wind, How can you rage so angrily today? 0 do not bluster so! Hush, bend yourselves lightly and gently, Stillet ihr Wipfel! Es schlummert mein Kind. Der Himmelsknabe duldet Beschwerde, Ach, wie so mud er ward vom Leid der Erde. Ach nun im schlaf ihm leise gesanftigtdie Qual zerrint. Stillet ihr Wipfel! Es schlummert mein Kind. Grimmige Kalte sauset hernieder, W omit nur deck ich des Kindleins Glieder? 0 a11 ihr Engel, Die ihr geflugelt wandelt im Wind, Stillet die Wipfel! Es schlummert mein Kind. Calm your branches! My child is sleeping. The heavenly child bears a burden, Ah, how weary he was from the sorrow of the world. Ah, now in sleep, his pain is gently smoothed away. Calm your branches! My child is sleeping. Bitter cold blows here on him, With what will I cover the child's limbs? Oh, all you angels, You who fly wandering in the wind, Calm the treetops! My child is sleeping. Mein Liebster Ist So Klein Mein Leibster ist so klein, Dass ohne Bucken Er mir das Zimmer fegt Mit seinen Locken. Als er ins Gartlein ging, Jasmin zu pfocken, Ist er vor einer Schnecke sehr erschrocken. Dann setzt er sich ins Haus Um zu verschnaufen Da warf ihn eine Fliege ubern Haufen Und als er hintrat an mein Fensterlein, Stiess eine Bremse ihm den Schadel ein. Verwunscht sei'n alle Fliegen, Schnacken, BremsenUnd wer ein Schatzchen hat aus dem Maremmen! Verwi.inscht sei'n alle Fliegen, Schnacken, MuckenUnd wer sich, wenn er kusst So tief muss bucken! My Love is so Small My love is so small, That without bending, He sweeps the floor for me With his hair! When he went into the little garden To pluck jasmine, He was badly frightened by a snail. Then he sat down in the house To catch his breath, Where a fly knocked him head over heels. And as he came in through my little window, A bluebottle dented his head. Cursed be all flies, snails, bluebottlesAnd she who has a sweetheart from Marremen! Cursed be all flies, snails, midgesAnd she who, when she kisses him, Must bend so low! look thus into it, Sunk in sorrow. it comes to me, Faithless That it was of you last That dreamed. Tear upon tear then Streams onto my Thus arrives the that it were Greif ich einen sussen Aal? hin? Schon schnellt mir's in Handen! Ach J arnmer! 0 Lust! Mit und Wenden Mir an die Brust. Es beisst o Wunder! Mir keck durch die Schiesst's Herze hinunter! 0 'l'ut Und snake? Love is a blind She says to the catch it? and It slides onto my breast. It oh Me boldly It shoots underneath to my heart! Oh I shudder! What to do? What's The horrible thing, It snaps inside of me, It lies coiled. I must have does its blissful And will be the death of me! 'Vna voce poco fa" Una voce poco fa Qui nel cor mi risuono II mio cor ferito e gia, E Lindoro fu che il piego. Si, Lindoro mio sara, Lo giurai, la vincero. Io sono docile, son rispettosa, Sono obbediente, dolce, amorosa. Mi lascio reggere, mi fO guidar. Mase mi toccano dov'e il mio debbole, Saro una vipera, saro. E cento trappole, prima di cedere Faro giocar. "A voice, a little while ago" A voice, a little while ago, Resounded here in my heart, My heart is already wounded, And Lindoro was the one who did it. Yes, Lindoro will be mine, I have sworn it, I will win. I am docile, I am respectful, I am obedient, sweet, loving, I let myself be ruled, I can be led. But if they touch me where my weakness is, I will be a viper, I will. And 100 tricks before giving in, I will play. Exsultate. Jubilate Exsultate, jubilate 0 vos animae beate. Dulcia cantica canendo Cantui vestro respondendo, Psallant aethera cum me. Exult. Reioice Exult, rejoice, 0 you happy souls. And with sweet music Let the heavens resound, With me, answering your song. Fulget amica dies, Jam fugere et nubila et procellae; Exortus est justis in expectata qui es. Undique obscura regnabat nox, Surgite tandem laeti, Qui timuistis adhuc, Et jucundi aurore fortunatae Frondes dextera plena et !ilia date. The lovely day grows bright, Now clouds and storms have fled, A sudden calm has arisen for the just. Before, darkness reigned everywhere. Rise up and rejoice together, You who are not feared, And happy in the blessed dawn Make offe1ing with hands full of lilies and garlands. Tu virginum corona, Tu nobis pacem dona, Tu consolare affectus, Unde suspirat cor. Alleluja. Thou Crown of Virgins, Grant us peace, Assuage the passions That touch our hearts. Alleluia. Abi Abi rounere Whoever were Dans un vieux square Ou !'ocean du mauvais temps met son seant de Sur un bane aux C'est d'une blonde dessus Ses besides de futaine sont des grogs massus de taine~ onnr\11">''711<" J e pense a Casadesus n'a pas fait de Sur cette scene d'amour Dont le nostalgique Sort d\me boite d'Armour. tu du 0 bouillon In an old square Where the ocean of bad weather sits On a sad bench with eyes is for a blonde Mean and That you this cabaret of That is with an American accent) Looks at me over His fustian ( twilled cotton fabric) His eyes are massive of grog ""~·~··,~~ of pretty silver (the silver ._, ...... '"'n'""' on a mirror) I think of Casadesus (a violinist) Who made no music On this stage of love Whose perfume Comes out of a box of armor/love. ( 100 monster) of the you The soul of the toad or, Oh bubble which looks at me With your ,8.ir du Poet~ Au pays de Papouasie J'ai caresse la Pouasie ... La grace que je vous souhaite C'est de n'etre pas Papouete. Chanson du Chat n est une bebete Tili, petit n'enfant, Tirelan C'est une byronette La beste a sa moman, Tirelan Le peu Ti nan faon C'est un ti blan-blanc Un petit Potasson C'est mon goret, c'est mon por~on Mon petit potasson. II saut' sur la fenetre Et groume du museau, Tirelo Pasqu'il voit sur la crete S'decouper les oiseaux, Tirelo Le petit n'en faut C'est un ti blo-blo Un petit Pota~ao C'est mon goret, c'est mon porceau Mon petit potasseau. S™ of the Poet In the land of the Papous (Papua, New Guinea) I caressed pouetry... The grace that I wish for you It's not to be a Papoet. Song of the Cat He's a childish Tili, little baby, Tirelan He's a byronette, The beast of his mama, Tirelan The little faun/ little baby He's a little white-white A little Potasson. He's my piglet, he's my little pig My little Potasson. He jumps onto the window, And grooms his muzzle, Tirelo 'Cause he sees on the roof The outlines of birds, Tirelo The little one doesn't need/the little baby He is a ti blo-blo (like blan-blanc, changed to rhyme) A little Potasso. He's my piglet, he's my little pig My little potasso. Three Songs for Soprano & Clarinet 1 Of all the birds that I do know, Phillip my sparrow hath no peer. For sit she high or sit she low, Be she far off or be she near, There is no bird so fair, so fine, Nor yet so fresh as this of mine, For when she once hath felt a fit, Phillip will cry out yet, yet, yet. She never wanders far abroad, But is at home when I do ca11. When I command she lays on load With lips, with teeth, with tongue and all She chants, she chirps, she makes such cheer That I believe she hath no peer. And to tell the truth he were to blame, Having so fine a bird as she To make him all this goodly game, Without suspect or jealousy. He were a churl (miser) and knew no good Would see her faint for lack of food For when she once hath felt the fit, Phillip will cry still yet, yet, yet. and take it! not away